To the End of the World
by Mavennica
Summary: Sequel to "Midnight Truths." Lucius Malfoy seeks vengeance for what happened to Draco, but in the result is unexpected. Mature rating for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is a sequel to "Midnight Truths," also called, "I See Only You" on . I own none of the characters, and I make no money from this. The people, places, and things belong to JKR; the plot is mine.**

The raggedy man wound his way through the filthy streets, struggling to drag the large stained canvas bag behind him. It made an uncomfortably wet thumping sound when the raggedy man drug it over a break in the pavement; he grunted with effort as he pulled it closer to him.

"Just a minute more, Cissy," wheezed the raggedy man, blinking his gray eyes against the frosty rain. "We're almost there, dearest."

The bag's only response was a squishy thump as it hit another crack in the pavement.

The raggedy man walked for a time, dragging his rain-soaked burden behind him. He closed his cloak against the biting moisture flung from the sky, but after a while even his cloak became sopping wet and heavy. He had been walking for miles, talking to the bag containing his dead wife for miles, feeling her form change from human to pulp as she smacked against obstacles on the road for miles.

He fell to his knees; he was so tired.

"No," Lucius Malfoy muttered, his one-fine hair draping over his face, "we can't stop, Cissy, not now. We're so close!" Madness burned in his eyes. He wrapped the strap from the canvas bag over his head and across his chest. He began crawling, dragging the heavy canvas bag behind him.

Chest burning, knees bleeding, Lucius slowly made his way to his destination. "She will help us, Cissy, she promised." He glanced over at the tattoo on his left forearm. "She swore. You'll see."

The bag's only answer was another meaty thump.

Lucius crawled for what could have been ten minutes or ten years; he wasn't quite sure. When his energy was at last drained, when he could no longer move forward, when his knees were so damaged they could no longer straighten, when the pain of movement approached _Cruciatus_ level, a doorway opened in a nearby building.

Lucius felt himself levitated, and he relaxed when a wash of magic erased his pain. He and his bag were brought into the building, and the door shut behind them with a metallic clank.

Suddenly warm, dry, and healed, Lucius stumbled and landed on a nearby couch. He chanced a look around the room, and his Slytherin blood ran cold.

Skin; everything was covered in skin. The lampshades were skin, the lamps themselves bone, the tapestries were skin with their former owners' tattoos featured prominently, and the furniture was soft leather that had recently been covering someone else. He jerked his hand away from the couch but remained seated.

A shadow from the corner moved forward. Skin moved from the tapestries to drape over the shadow until it took the form of a nude woman. She knelt before Lucius and slowly stroked his thighs.

"Lucius Malfoy, thou hast suffered much to come unto me. Thy need must be very great."

The woman's eyes were completely hollow as was her mouth. The skin covered the shadow, nothing more. Lucius shivered as he gazed into the empty sockets.

"Art thou cold, fair Lucius? I shall warm thee."

The skin of the couch grew warmer, molding itself to his shape. It was then he realized that the skin on the couch was alive.

Lucius lowered his head, struggling to remember the exact words he needed. Failure to do so just might land him a place on her wall. "Shadow Maiden, I have come to barter my wife for your services."

"Clever man to have not stated thy deceased wife was an offering. I would have taken her and then asked for barter." The Shadow Maiden smiled, pulling the skin into a rictus. Her teeth were black. "For what wouldst thou barter thy wife, pretty snake?"

Madness returned to Malfoy's eyes. "I wish for the power of the Dark Lord in order to destroy Severus Snape's life."

"I find thy phrasing…interesting." She leaned forward close enough for Lucius to smell her breath; it carried the scents of cold stone and cemetery dirt. "Why not simply murder thine enemy?"

"No," he growled, "I want him to suffer as I have suffered." His voice broke on the last word. "He murdered my son, and in despair my Cissy took her own life." He looked the Shadow Maiden in her empty sockets. "He owes me a wife and child."

The Shadow Maiden waved her hand, and a chair grew from the skin on the floor. She made herself comfortable. "What thou seeketh costs much more than thy wife's corpse, pretty snake." She steepled her fingers. "The price of what thou seeketh is much higher."

Darkness flowed from the Shadow Maiden's body. It seeped out of every pore and flowed in a river between her legs. Her skin fell and was reabsorbed by the floor. The shadows coalesced into a new form, and Lucius bolted for the door.

A familiar voice, sibilant and terrible, flowed from the shadow. "You shall not leave, Lucius Malfoy. I require your services."

Lucius closed his eyes. _Surely not, surely not, surely not…_

"Face me, coward!" roared the shadow. "Turn and face your Lord of Death!"

Falling to his knees, Malfoy turned and opened his arms. "Lord Voldemort, I rejoice in your return—"

"Liar!"

Voldemort melted into darkness and threw himself at Lucius. The inky blackness seeped into the blond man's every orifice. The Dark Lord cackled with maniacal glee at Malfoy's screams as he forcibly breached the blond man's fundament.

"You always loved the screams of others, Malfoy," Voldemort said with Lucius's voice.

Voldemort/Lucius stepped out of the door and into the alley, giving a kick to the bag containing Narcissa's remains.

"Let's pay our esteemed Headmaster a visit, shall we?"

Poppy Pomfrey's brows knit in confusion as she waved her wand over Hermione's growing belly. "This isn't right. Something's wrong…Sit back, please, Madame Snape, I'm not done yet." The matron switched to a different set of spells.

Heaving a great sigh, Severus uncrossed his legs and sat forward. "Merlin's sake, Poppy, It's not that difficult to cast pregnancy charms."

Madame Pomfrey impatiently clicked her tongue. "It's not hard to cast the charms needed to detect pregnancy, boy," she said, shooting the dark man a hard sideways glance. "It's quite different once the witch has been verified up the duff."

"Eloquent as always, Poppy," he drawled, smothering a smile. He could always count on Pomfrey to put him in his place. Everyone else simpered, "Yes, Headmaster," or, "No, Headmaster," while trying to run from him, but not Pomfrey. She had seen him in his altogethers plenty of times during the war, including the strawberry birthmark on his left ass cheek, so she had no fear of him.

"So, tell us your 'professional' diagnosis," he smirked, making quotation marks in the air with his fingers. When Hermione shot him a dirty look, he merely shrugged as if to say, "What? I didn't do anything."

Ignoring the glowering man behind her, Madame Pomfrey returned her attention to Hermione. "Have you been having any side effects, such as nausea, cravings, tiredness, or mood swings?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, none of that. Matter of fact, I feel great. I have more energy than I've ever had before, and my magic has increased in strength."

Pomfrey made a face and shook her head. "It just doesn't make sense…"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, out with it, woman!"

The Matron snorted. "Alright, here you go. Madame Snape's tests show…"

The younger woman sighed. "For Circe's sake, please call me Hermione."

"…that she has a magical tumor."

All three of them looked at one another. They each began to speak when Filius Flitwick burst into the Hospital Ward.

"Headmaster, you have a visitor."

Severus did a double take. Filius appeared normal, but his eyes were glassy, and his tiny body was more relaxed than he had ever seen. _Imperiused!_

Before Severus could disarm him, Filius spoke again, sounding slightly dreamy. "Lucius Malfoy is here to see you, sir."


	2. Chapter 2

Severus stared. Something was seriously wrong with Lucius Malfoy.

The elder Malfoy's flesh was stretched and shiny with bloat, and his icy blue eyes protruded slightly from their sockets, the pupils fixed and dilated. His breathing was labored with a guttural rasp, and the skin around his mouth was cyanotic. A black tongue darted out to moisten his blue lips.

"Hello, Severus," the blond monstrosity wheezed, crackling with magic despite his physical decay. "I have missed you, boy."

Ice-cold dread sliced down Severus's spine. Only one person had ever called him "boy," and it wasn't Albus Dumbledore. _Dearest Merlin, not again…_

"Voldemort," Severus spat between clenched teeth, moving slowly to put more of himself between Hermione and the Dark Lord. "What fresh hell is this?"

Voldemort cocked Lucius's head to the side and smiled, the bones in his borrowed neck creaking. "What, no falling to your knees, Severus? No supplicating my mercy?" He sneered stiffly, obviously discomfited by having a nose once more. "Where is my half-blood Snivellus, imploring me to save his mudblood whore?"

The grotesque wizard took a step toward Severus and then froze; his face contorted in rage as he unsuccessfully tried to move his other foot. "You blistering traitor, you vacuous bat!" Voldemort spat, his blue irises turning violet from the red light inside his eyes. "Severus, release me, you mewling shit!"

Hermione's voice rang out clear and true. "I will not."

Severus glanced behind him and then did so again. Hermione had one hand on her stomach and the other stretched out towards the swollen monstrosity. Her face had gone white, and her brown eyes were flecked with metallic green. "You will not harm her husband."

"Poppy, get her the fuck out of here!" Severus ordered, the business end of his wand never wavering from its impotently raging target.

The Matron touched Hermione's arm gently but drew back with a gasp, her hand red from the painful shock. Hermione slowly turned her head. "Do not touch me."

Hermione's other hand moved from her stomach and came to rest on Severus's shoulder. "Do not attempt to remove me, tortured hero. I shall return your beloved wife to you unharmed momentarily." She turned her green-flecked eyes to Voldemort. "I must deal with the worst my House has ever spawned."

"Your House? But Riddle was a…" Severus snapped his mouth shut and stared at his wife. "Will she remember any of this?"

Hermione shrugged. "It matters not. What does matter, Headmaster, is that you stay out of the way."

Bare feet made no sound as they carried Hermione to stand before Voldemort. She stared a moment before touching his forehead. "Feel," she intoned, rubbing a small circle on the taut skin.

Lucius's body began to tremble. The skin gave way on his arms, finally stretched to its limit. Voldemort grinned in triumph. "I feel nothing, you mudblood cunt."

Hermione cocked her head and smiled. "Who was the best at the Cruciatus curse, Riddle? Who threw it like no other? Who in history had such talent for it that it created a crook in his wand?"

The rictus smile again. "It was the greatest Slytherin who ever lived."

"And you presume to be my worthy heir?" she whispered, her lips brushing softly against his distorted ears.

"You are not Salazar Slytherin. Salazar Slytherin would never speak through mudblood filth—"

His words were cut off by a vicious backhand. Lucius's body flew backward as half of his perfect teeth clattered out on the flagstone. Voldemort recovered quickly and stood.

"You understand nothing, you fool," she snarled. "I care not with whoever witches or wizards Slytherins choose to rut, but I will not have shaman energy tainting the pure magic of my House."

Voldemort laughed. "Shamans are a myth, girl."

Hermione's curls began to stir, and a hot breeze smelling of sulfur and hot rock wafted through the room. "Your ignorance has sullied my house for the last time." Hermione's face crumbled into a grimace of hatred. She raised her arms, and a silent concussion wave, like thunder without sound, burst through the room.

The green flecks in Hermione's eyes flew out and embedded themselves in the small patch of flesh on Lucius's forehead. "_Ignis_ _Crucio Aeternum!_" the young woman shouted, her voice deadly and terrible.

The room shook, and the stones on the floor cracked. The window shattered, flinging menacing shards of brightly-hued death towards the center of the room, but no one could hear the destruction of the colored glass for Voldemort's unending screams.

Robes billowing, Severus swore, summoned an unconscious Filius to him, and jumped for Poppy , wrapping them all in his voluminous black cloak. The Matron struggled against him, beating his chest and arms. "Unhand me, Severus Snape, this very instant!"

He pulled back and bent down just enough to hiss into her ear. "Unless you wish to spend the rest of your minutes screaming and pissing yourself in unending fiery torment, Poppy, I strongly suggest you stop and let me save you." The Matron wrapped her arms around his waist as Severus began to chant.

Lucius's body writhed on the floor, his bloated and ruined hands grabbing at his head. Voldemort was immune to the Cruciatus curse, but this was something more. His very magic burned, lit by the fires of Hell itself. His eyes seared and popped from his skull, and black, sticky, death energy leaked from the sockets. His body seized, giving one last gurgling scream, and Lucius Malfoy's liquefied brain leaked out his ears. His bodily organs burst, and the blasted remnants of his lungs bubbled out his mouth and nose.

The heat increased, and Voldemort twisted and jerked as his host's body was burned away, leaving only an oozing mass of thick black liquid. A roar of rage and pain tore through the room as the black liquid boiled away leaving only a burnt mark upon the flagstone.

Sensing that the immediate danger was over, Severus released Poppy to tend to Filius. He turned toward his wife in time to see her kneel down and placed her right hand on the mark.

"You will not stain my castle." Her fingers dug into the floor as if it were made of clay and pulled up what looked to be a black shard of volcanic glass. "The last shred of your soul will be put to good use." She released the shard, and it hung suspended in midair. She made an intricate motion with her hands. "_Cum Anima Vestra ad Damnum Reparandum_."

A howl rent through the air before the glass shard shattered with a gentle tinkling sound. Tiny pieces flew into each crack in the floor, and more tiny pieces flew into the windows, taking other shards with them to repair the intricately colored glass. The last of Voldemort's energy returned the room to its previous state.

When everything was put back to rights and quiet once again descended upon the room, Severus stepped forward. "Hermione…"

His wife whirled to face him. "I am not your wife, as should be obvious. Godric's cubs could never be capable of such ruthless cruelty." Hermione clasped her hands behind her back. "Now, Headmaster, we will have a quiz over these events."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Indeed?"

"Tell me, Headmaster. Why were Muggleborns never allowed in Slytherin?"

Severus's lip curled in disgust. "The shaman lie was a convenient ruse to oust Muggles, Salazar. Racism is not a new phenomenon. "

Hermione leaned in, an unfamiliar sneer marring her features. "Then explain to me exactly how it is that your pretty wife is channeling me."


End file.
